‘How would I know for fuck sake? You were the one who invited her here!’
‘No. That’s where you’re wrong Jacob. Sure, I mean I guess I did invite someone into our home. Her name was Zara though, never Karly.’
I can't be angry at my wife, I can't. This isn't her fault; it's Karly who has manipulated her, it's her who should be punished. It's her my anger should be directed at.
‘Listen to me, babe. I understand that you thought she was your friend, really, I do. It's not your fault, and it's not mine either.'
'It wasn't your fault?' she marvels at me. 'If it wasn't your fault Jacob, then why were you still in touch with her? I saw the messages – last year. You left them on your phone. You're a fucking idiot.'
Last year? What messages is she talking about? There's been loads - too many to remember or even hazard a guess at the exact conversation. It's best not to ask any more questions, I don't need to know specifics, I just need to address the root of her anger.
'It was just a few texts back and forth babe, nothing more to it. Just a bit of fun. She doesn’t mean anything to me.’
I step forwards, try to take her arm, but she flinches out of my reach.
‘Babe, come on, you have to believe me!’
The anger that I've tried so hard to suppress has started bubbling up to the surface now. She's not listening to me; I need her to just fucking listen to me for once in her life. As much as she isn't to blame here, she isn't exactly innocent in all of this either I realise. A multitude of thoughts race through my mind; how devious my wife has been, how much she has hidden from me, how she orchestrated this whole dinner party from hell. No, she's far from innocent here.
Lauren
I can't listen to any more of his shit, it's doing my head in. I turn my attention towards you, because you've been awfully quiet, haven't you? Standing there, clutching at my silk robe, a single streak of blood dripping down your cheek where one of the shards have grazed your pretty face – you play the victim extremely well.
‘So, Karly or Zara, what should I call you then?’
You have the nerve to gawk at me as if I have asked you something difficult. You clear your throat before you speak.
‘Karly. My name is Karly; which you quite clearly know so I don't really know why you're asking.’
Oh, would you look at that. Was that a little bit of sass that I detected there? I think it was, in fact I know it was, because there's no fondness in your tone any more. No, that's all gone, washed away with the rest of your lies. You never cared about me at all, not really. Sometimes I think you were confused though, perhaps thought that I could become a friend, but that was never going to happen.
‘Ah yes, silly me. Karly, of course it is! Well Karly, sit back down, will you? I think we have a few things to talk about.'
‘No’ you spit sharply, as good as slapping me across the face.
‘Sorry?’ I ask. I don't think you understand what I've just said, because you aren't powerful enough to run away now.
‘You heard me – I said no. You don't tell me what to do. I'd rather stand for what I'm about to say.’
I can't help but smile, for there you are – the real you. The one who left me for dust in that hotel bedroom, the one who didn't give a shit about what happened to me, the one who came to steal my husband.
‘Fine, suit yourself’, I say and delicately tip toe my way around the broken shards splayed across the floor as I fetch my glass of wine from the kitchen worktop. I swirl it around, splashing it against the glass, watching it crash like waves with the flick of my wrist. I raise it slowly to my mouth and take a large gulp, draining its entirety and sitting it down firmly before turning back to face you both.
‘So, who would like to go first then?’
Chapter 38
Karly
She looks so smug, standing there with her wild eyes, looking at me like I’m the crazy one here. I won’t sit back down. She doesn't get to be in control any more. She thinks she's been so smart, figuring out who I really was and putting this whole bloody thing together. I don't understand why she bothered to be honest. Surely, she should have just confronted me from the get go, back in Tenerife when she first arrived. What was the point in dragging all of this out when the outcome would ultimately stay the same? Anyway, I'm not sitting down to this. I won’t allow her to tower over me like she has authority over this situation.
Jacob’s eyes have remained glued to Laurens face, barely even glancing in my direction, which is quite fucking annoying to be honest because I wish he would just stop pretending. There isn't a point in lying to her anymore – there's no need. It wasn't how I had imagined us coming together but we're here now, and so we may as well be honest about our relationship and make sure once and for all that everyone knows their place and where they stand.
I wait patiently for him to answer her; to take the lead and tell her that yes, he’s sorry, but he's in love with me. There's so much he needs to tell her: that it's me he wants, that it always has been and always will be, and that she should leave without making a fuss but the room stays silent.
My forehead creases in frustration. The silence is almost deafening. I don't understand his silence, I've never had him pegged as weak - but maybe I'm being unfair to him. This is a shock to him too, he's having to think on his feet here, maybe he's just a little slower than me at adjusting to surprise. I decide that l need to be strong for both of us now, guide us through this dark fog and into the light; where we can finally be happy together.
‘Well, it’s quite simple really, Lauren', I sigh. 'Jacob is supposed to be with me. He wants to be with me.’
She throws her head back, laughing into the air, howling with delight and my blood starts to boil under my skin.
‘It’s true. He couldn’t tell you before because he didn’t want to hurt you. He's putting your happiness before his own and it isn't fair. He wasn't mean enough to upset you - so I decided that it was time I did.’
I look over at him as I hold out my hand, searching his face for assurance, waiting for him to walk towards me and take my hand in his so that we can face this together – as a team. He doesn't budge, instead throws his head into his hands and starts clenching his hair tightly, rocking back and forth on his heels.
I feel so confused, I don't recognise this man standing in front of me. I don’t understand where the confident, cocksure man I fell in love with has disappeared to. Why am I fighting this alone? Why is he cowering behind his hands?
Never mind, I started this alone, I can finish this alone and then she can leave.
‘I want you to know, I went to Tenerife with only good intentions - I swear. I didn’t want to hurt you or anything, nothing crazy. I just needed you to know the truth.'
She drums her fingers on the worktop and the sound echoes throughout the room.
‘But you didn’t tell me who you were in Tenerife, did you, ZARA’? Oh no, you decided to put on a nice little show for me, didn’t you?’
I bite the inside of my lip to prevent a full-blown smile breaking out across my face and still a subtle smirk escapes me. She’s right, and what a show it was, but the hypocrisy in what she is saying right now is hilarious. She must be deluded if she thinks that I am the only one to blame here. Doesn’t she recognise that she was the one who chose to play along? I never forced her to do that, I never made her pretend. If she knew who I was from the beginning she could have prevented this herself.
I sigh dramatically. ‘OK, OK, I admit there were a few white lies told - between the both of us come to think of it - but if I’m being totally honest, I started to grow fond of you. I guess you could say I thought of you as a friend or some sorts, and it became harder for me to tell you the truth when we were having such a good time.'
She cocks her head and smiles, as if I’m telling a twisted joke and she’s waiting for the punchline. She needs to wipe that grin off her face, she isn't whiter than white here. She has lied to me too. I could argue that
hers were actually worse, more deceitful. I am not the villain here.
Lauren
What a load of bullshit. I can't quite believe what I'm hearing.
I take a quick glance in the direction of Jacob who still has his head in his hands, refusing to look at either one of us. He really is a weak and pathetic man.
‘If you had grown so fond of me Karly, you wouldn’t have done what you did’, I tell you bluntly.
You look confused; a bewildered look stretching across your lightly freckled face.
‘Come on!’ I shriek, losing my patience now. ‘You remember that fun night, don’t you?’
I stride over to the chopping board that I had left sitting on the worktop and launch it into the air, snatching the picture that I had kept perfectly hidden. Now I'm holding it high as I walk back into the lion's den.
You didn’t even realise it was gone, that I removed it from your handbag earlier on today when you were upstairs. I took your bag downstairs with me when you were bathing.
I didn't expect to find it there, I didn't know you even had it, I was simply having a little rummage and there it was.
You look shocked - hurt even - as if me going through your things without permission is the ultimate betrayal in all of this.
‘I know what you were going to do, Karly. I know you were going to show Jacob this picture.’
Jacob's head begins to rise, his interest has been piqued at mention of a picture. He doesn't even know half of it yet, the madness that accompanied that night, the danger you put me in.
Now you smile, but not just slightly any more. Now you aren't even trying to hide it, in fact you're laughing. Your laughter started slowly but now it's building, ascending into a menacing cackle and it takes every ounce of restraint that I have to resist lunging towards you and grabbing your throat. Oh god, I want to hurt you. I want to punch you, kick you, scratch you – make you bleed.
‘Guess I underestimated you, Lauren’, you giggle. ‘So, you knew who I was from the beginning then, eh?’
I nod as I run my tongue over the inside of my bottom teeth.
‘Well, bravo for you babe – no, really, well done’, you mock, beginning to clap your hands as you walk towards me.
My body stiffens, preparing for sudden attack, but instead you brush past my arm with your sight firmly set on something else. I turn to see where you're going and so does Jacob. You lift your handbag from the floor and root around inside, throwing unwanted items behind you. What are you looking for? I didn't find anything else in there earlier. It's possible I could have missed something though; I stopped my search as soon as I found the picture.
I wrack my brain quickly but all I can remember finding was lipstick, a pack of spearmint gum, a hair tie and a phone charger. I'm being paranoid, there's nothing else in that you could use against me. I wouldn’t have missed anything.
You stop searching, it appears you are satisfied with what you have found, what you've been looking for.
‘I really hoped we could have been friends, Lauren, but I realise now that sadly we can’t.’
You're back is still facing Jacob and I – still not showing us what you found in your bag. There's nothing in that bag, you're being crazy. You have nothing left, you're clutching at straws and turning a little cuckoo to be quite honest. You hoped that we could have been friends? As if. What goes on in that warped little head of yours? I think you might actually need professional help.
Jacob hasn't moved, and I'm so angry with him right now for thinking with his dick instead of his head. He could at least have chosen a girl who wasn't certifiably insane.
Why aren't you turning round to face me? I'm about to approach you but your voice startles me.
‘So, I’m not going to rush you. But I guess, you should probably pack up some things and leave us to it now eh, Lauren?’
Chapter 39
Jacob
Slowly she starts to turn and now she's looking right at me with those big beautiful eyes that I’ve only ever seen through a screen of some sorts. I know that she's waiting on me, waiting for me to back her up and defend her. She wants me to tell my wife that I don’t love her, that I’ve never loved her – but that's not true. I love my wife; I love her more than anything. I fuck up sometimes, yeah – what bloke doesn't? But I only ever want Lauren at the end of the day. Anyone else is just a distraction, a bit of fun to pass the time when I'm bored. Nobody will ever compare to Lauren, not even Karly.
Lauren looks stunned by Karly’s last words, and I don’t blame her. Even I can’t quite believe the missiles that are escaping her lips. Who does she think she is telling my wife to leave her own home?
I’ve never told her that I would leave my wife for her – not once. I've flirted around the topic, I've entertained a few “what if” scenarios, but I've never said I would actually do it.
I know I should say something, but I just don't know what. I still can't believe this is actually happening.
Lauren begins to holler at Karly; shrieking insults by the second: calling her a bitch, trash, a home-wrecking slut, a crazy nut job. Just about everything and anything she can think of really to inflict some sort of pain but it's not working, Karly doesn’t even flinch and that just makes her all the madder.
It’s time to stop this now, I've had enough of it all. Karly needs to leave and I need to try and pacify my wife.
‘Karly, you should never have come here.’
Her smile sinks slowly, not fully understanding what I’m saying to her.
‘You doing all of this shit, going to extreme lengths to find my wife, lying about who you are, turning up at my house - it’s crazy, it's all fucking crazy!’
Her pupils widen as she struggles to gulp down every brutally honest word. She wasn't expecting this, she genuinely thought I would choose her.
‘But Jacob, it’s been ten years. It’s our time now!’ she screams, taking a step towards me.
I'm still aware of the strangeness that is her right hand; still hidden inside her handbag, clenched around something unknown.
I don’t get a chance to respond to her, to reiterate what I’ve just said because Lauren beats me to it.
‘No Karly, it’s not, and newsflash - it’s never going to be.’
A spark of positivity ignites within me. There might just be a small possibility of rescuing my marriage after all this madness has calmed down. I recognise it in her choice of words –it's never going to be. This is a good sign, and if I have even a slither of a chance left, I need to really show Lauren that I am on her side, that our bond is unbreakable, that nothing and nobody can come between the two of us.
‘Listen to me very carefully, Karly - I don’t want you. I will never want you. I love my wife. Do you understand me?’
She doesn’t answer, just stares at me in horror and so I repeat the words again; words I know will wound her deeply. ‘Karly, I said I will never want you – that I love my wife.’
Still she doesn't answer. She lowers her head to the ground, her bare feet with red painted toes begin to fidget, shuffling from side to side, burning a hole underneath her. Slowly she raises her head back up, but her eyes are no longer on me.
Lauren is laughing at her, uncontrollably, excitedly, and I really wish she wouldn’t because she’s making things so much worse. She’s mocking her - but boldly - and Karly’s face twists horribly as the pent-up anger prepares to explode. I watch her face, the same one that I've loved to look at for so long now; that dainty nose, that crease between her eyebrows, those big beautiful blue eyes that seduce me, those luscious lips that I've dreamt of kissing, of biting. I don't see any of it any more. It's gone, all gone. All I see now is her hatred, her wickedness, her delusion – it's ugly.
In a split second the room erupts into action as Lauren finally pops the cork on the fragile bottle that contained Karly’s temper. She just couldn’t help herself, she had to keep pushing her. She had to gloat at her victory, she had to dance with danger. It all happened in
slow motion, at least that's what it seemed like to me. Lauren stepped in front of me, towards Karly, invading her space and spat at her five explosive words.
‘He's mine, you crazy bitch.’
Karly
Stop laughing. She needs to stop laughing. I'm not messing around anymore. I'll do it. I swear to God, I'll fucking do it.
But she doesn't stop. She's just making things worse.
'He's mine, you crazy bitch.’
I release an almighty howl as I lunge towards her, pulling my hand from my bag and dropping it onto the floor behind me. Her stupidly smug face is all I have set in my sights, my hand wrapped firmly around the silver cosmetic scissors.
She spots them almost instantly and tries to jerk away from me, but she's too slow because now I have a fierce grip of her hair; my other hand stabbing wildly, searching for soft flesh but she somehow manages to knock them from my grasp before they can inflict any damage and they fly out of my reach.
Now she's grabbing my hair too. She pulls at me, swiping at my face with her sharp claws, trying to kick me in the stomach with the heel of her bare foot. I roar as I try with all my might to push her away but she hooks her arm around my neck and now we're both falling towards the floor. An almighty crack signifies the shattering of a skull as it collides with the sharp corner of the kitchen worktop. I flinch, instinctively grabbing my head and searching for signs of injury but I'm OK.
I straddle her now as she lies flat on her back on the cold marbled floor, taking a few more furious swings at her once kind face. Punch after punch after punch, I find it hard to stop. Her face is bloody now, a real mess, far from pretty, and as my fist collides once more, I hear the crunch of her nose as it jerks and breaks.
I pause for a moment to catch my breath.
The Lies She Told: A wickedly twisted psychological thriller that you cannot put down! Page 22